What Began as a Southern Belle
by Moira Grace Inman
Summary: A young lady brought up on the east coast runs away to the west. Found a year later by Tunstall she decides to stay with the regulators and becomes an active participant in the Lincoln County War. Romance occurs in later chapters
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer- I do not own Young Guns. I do own my OC Grace.

Two years prior to the events of Young Guns I-

Grace, a young woman of 18 stood in her bedroom as a servant unlaced her corset. Having just returned home from a ball her feet were sore from dancing, and her ribs ached from the crushing constraint of popular fashion. As the offending garment was finally cast off she thankfully took in a full breath of air. Standing before a mirror she saw her grandmother reflected in the glass, stepping into the room. The older woman was dressed in black as she always was and gazed at Grace with unveiled disdain, again as she always was. The lady of the house crossed her arms and spoke.

"Do you have to break all the rules at every ball?" she asked. Grace smiled sweetly in the mirror watching her grandmother.

"It wouldn't be fun otherwise."

"Despite your antics at the ball this evening a gentleman has asked for your hand."

Smile disappearing Grace turned from the mirror,

"Who?" She demanded. Her grandmother grinned and walked back toward the hall. Pausing in the doorway she half turned, her hand resting on the frame.

"The Governor's eldest son for reasons unknown to me has taken quite a fancy to you. Naturally as your guardian I have accepted on your behalf. The engagement will be announced in the morning papers." With that she quit the room.

Grace stood stunned for several minutes. She knew that it would happen eventually but not so soon. Mr. Adamson was a full decade older at least, had already gone through one wife, and had a mean streak a mile long. The dance they had shared at the ball had been the worst waltz of her life to date. The man had held her far too close and his breathe had reeked of brandy and cigars.

Angrily she ushered her servants from the room shouting that she could dress herself. Standing in her undergarments she stood there fuming. Feeling like a trapped animal with no escape she began pacing the room. _I can't marry him and I won't_, she thought adamantly. She had to get out of it, but how? Stopping in the center of the room she tapped her chin scheming, when she spied her riding boots just underneath her bed and then glanced over to the riding habit still lying over a chair from earlier that day and put it and the boots on. Rashly she went to her wardrobe throwing wide the doors and pulled out her travel bag. Tossing in a few riding skirts, blouses, various undergarments, and an extra pair of shoes, she turned back to the room. _Only what you can carry. _Walking to the bookshelf she pulled off a couple books she simply couldn't do without, from her nightstand she withdrew all the money she had, the portrait of the family she had lost, and finally her small box of jewelry. All was packed away in the bag which she hugged to her chest for a moment before leaving the room forever. Outside in the hallway all was dark and silent. Surely by this late hour everyone was long since asleep. Still she made her way as quietly as possible through the house. Halfway down the winding staircase a few warped floorboards squealed. One hand grasping the handle of her bag, the other on the rail, her heart pounded so loud she was certain that had they not heard the floor, her heart would give her away. Once outside she breathed a sigh of relief and rushed to the stables. As she rode away from the house that night she didn't look back.

Through the coming months she traveled west.


	2. Chapter 2

Here we meet the Regulators.

Six months prior to the Lincoln County War:

Mr. John Tunstall was visiting his store in town and picking up a few supplies. He was accompanied by a handsome young boy with blonde hair and cornflower blue eyes. As they walked out from the store and loaded up their horse-drawn wagon a sudden commotion drew their attention up the street. Out in front of the saloon a man was shouting angrily; whip in hand, at a fallen horse. The horse was struggling to right itself but continuously collapsed from sheer exhaustion. As they watched the man drew back his arm ready to deliver another blow to the suffering animal. Just as Mr. Tunstall was about to call out to stop him, a young girl threw herself in front of the man. The whip, already sent in motion, caught the girl by the forearm. Wincing slightly at the sting she shook off the whip and shoved at the drunken man who staggered back. By now Mr. Tunstall was hurrying toward them eager to lend his assistance. As he came upon them their words became clear.

"- can't you see she's tired? Just let her be!" The girl was shouting. The man raised the whip again just as the girl drew back her fist. Seeing this as the opportune moment Mr. Tunstall intervened.

"What seems to be the trouble?" He asked, ever polite. The man looked at Tunstall and slurred,

"Goddamn horse is my business Englishmen. You and this bitch can stay out of it." The young girl was still standing between the horse and the man with her fists raised ready to lash out if the man attempted to hurt the horse again. Reaching into his pocket Mr. Tunstall pulled out a wad of bills and held them up to the man.

"I would like to make it my business. I will buy this horse from you." Eyeing the money the man snatched it and laughed.

"Waste of money if you ask me" he said hooking the whip onto his belt and walking off to the saloon. No doubt to spend that money all in one place in drink and whores. Watching him go, Mr. Tunstall shook his head in disgust before turning to the poor horse that had ceased struggling. The girl was now kneeling down in the road beside the horse feeling the legs. Her dark hair was tamed into a thick plait at the back of her head, and upon turning she fixed her eyes on Mr. Tunstall. Smiling kindly he introduced himself, "Good afternoon Miss, my name is John Tunstall." Narrowing her eyes the girl brushed a stray lock of hair from her face and stood up dusting off her skirts. Offering her hand she simply said,

"Grace." Giving Mr. Tunstall a firm handshake she then gestured to the horse, "Poor horse is just exhausted and starving no doubt. Thank you Sir. What are you going to do with her, if you don't mind my asking?" Behind them the horse moved into a sitting position before carefully making its way to its feet. Catching hold of the reigns Grace smiled revealing a neat set of white teeth as she patted the horse's neck.

"She is yours if you want her. Do you live nearby?" Taken off guard by his kindness Grace took a moment to respond.

"No just passing through really." He took note of the knapsack on her back and ragged appearance. The hem of her skirt was torn and muddied.

"Alone?"

"Yes Sir."

"Do you have a place to stay?" The girl shifted on her feet and shook her head.

"No Sir." John Tunstall thought for a moment before speaking to the young lady again,

"I have a cattle ranch not too far from here; an easy journey for this horse. If you'd like you can ride back with us and stay while she gets her strength back." A young blonde boy had pulled up in a small horse-drawn cart and grinned down at her. Neither the Englishmen nor the boy seemed particularly dangerous so she accepted the invitation. Just as she was tying the horse's reigns to the cart a gunshot rang out. Across the street a young boy was running with two men in close pursuit.

"Oh no. Not another hanging." Mr. Tunstall exclaimed in dismay. Gesturing for her to jump on the cart they came round on the opposite side of the street and pulled up alongside a fence where the boy had ducked for cover in a cattle pen. Poking his head out from under the fencing he aimed his revolver at Mr. Tunstall. Casually leaning forward Mr. Tunstall revealed the blonde boy to be aiming his rifle right back at the boy on the ground.

"Howdy" he said charmingly.

"Come along lad, don't be afraid." After a moment the grubby looking kid seemed to sense the good intentions of Tunstall as Grace did. Hopping up onto the cart he curled up and Grace threw a tarp over him. He remained hidden until they were well away from the town.

As they rode the blonde boy introduced himself as Josiah Scurlock but had asked to be called Doc and the kid called himself William H. Bonney. Quite the talker, Doc rambled on for the duration of the ride certainly keeping up his end of the conversation and more while Billy's steely blue eyes darted about nervously. Coming upon the crest of a hill, a small ranch house and a few other buildings came into view. A few boys were scattered around doing their various chores.

"Who are them?" asked Billy causing Grace to wince and Mr. Tunstall to correct,

"'They' William, 'Who are they?'" They are the boys of the dregs. The flotsam and jetsam of frontier society. We've got room in the bunkhouse my young man. If you don't want to stay, the Sante Fe runs out of Albuquerque in the morning." Doc jumped down from his seat on the wagon and walked over to his friends. Grace caught something that was said about bringing another hardcase in. It seemed that Mr. Tunstall collected wayward youngsters. As she stepped off the back of the cart she heard the particularly dirty looking boy say "I hope it ain't another Mexican" to which the Mexican replied, "Mexican-Indian, you son-of-a-bitch."

Mr. Tunstall cleared his throat, "Master Jose, it isn't polite to curse in front of a lady."

Folding her arms in front of her Grace looked at the grimy boy. "I think the son-of-a-bitch deserved it" she commented.

"Well gentlemen this is Miss Grace. She will be staying with us while her horse recovers. Now Grace this is Richard Brewer, Charles Bowdre, Steven Stephens, and Jose Chavez y Chavez." They were all staring, a couple open-mouthed. Tattered clothing and a little dust couldn't hide her fair face and fine features. Smiling Grace waved to them.

"Nice to meet you all" she said. She adjusted the pack on her back and looked up to Mr. Tunstall.

"Come" said Mr. Tunstall, "I'll show you to the barn." As the two walked off leading the horse the boys stared after them. Dick looked over at Charley and slapped his slack jaw. As Grace settled the horse into the barn John stood quietly by. After she was finished he cleared his throat to speak.

"Are you in any kind of trouble? How is it that you are out here on your own?" His blue eyes showed only concern. Since Grace felt that she had nothing to hide she told him the truth.

"I ran away from home about a year ago. There won't be any trouble I don't think. No one knew where I went and I doubt anyone is looking."

"What have you been doing since you ran away?"

"I worked my way west from North Carolina. Found work in a dress shop, piano playing in a saloon, I did some teaching for a bit. Honest work." She said pointedly. Mr. Tunstall gave her a half smile and gestured for her to follow him. They left the barn and made their way to the adobe ranch house. Stepping inside the home she looked around. It was surprisingly well kept. He led her to a small room and told her that it was hers for as long as she liked. Grace smiled appreciatively and laid her pack on a chair. The room had a small bed, writing desk, chair, and wash basin. She ran her hand along the quilted surface of the blanket on the bed.

"Supper will be ready shortly. I'll leave you to get ready." He turned to leave but Grace stopped him.

"Mr. Tunstall? Thank you." He smiled and left closing the door behind him. When he had gone she went straight for the wash basin and scrubbed her face clean and attempted to put any stray bits of hair back into place. Opening her knapsack Grace pulled out her spare set of clothes. Shaking out the wrinkles she changed and smiled to herself. It had been a while seen she'd seen a kind face. It looked like things were finally turning around. Suddenly there was a soft knock on the door. Doing up the last buttons on her blouse she opened the door to see the boy who had been introduced as Richard.

"Excuse me Miss Grace, suppers ready." He walked her back to the dining table.

Grace held back from the table not wanting to take anyone's seat. Choosing an empty chair at the end of the table across from Mr. Tunstall she quietly sat as they bowed their heads to say grace. After a chorus of "amen's" the bowls and plates were passed around and conversations were struck up. Eyeing the small portions Grace had dealt herself Mr. Tunstall invited her to take more. Smiling politely Grace thanked him and took another biscuit.

"Small thing like you probably doesn't need much" laughed Billy. Grace looked at him quizzically. She didn't say it out loud but Billy couldn't have been too much taller than herself. His comment broke the ice and the other boys directed their attention toward her. Perhaps they weren't used to the company of a woman.

"Where are you from Miss Grace?" asked Dick from where he sat to Tunstalls right.

"North Carolina and just Grace please." Being called "Miss" put her in mind of the pampered lifestyle she had left behind.

"You must like horses. Is your arm okay?" Doc inquired. Grace had quite forgotten about her arm. Sliding up her sleeve to reveal her forearm she ran her fingers over the red welt that the whip lash had left behind. Pushing back down the sleeve she shrugged.

"It will be alright. I do like horses very much. I don't take kindly to their mistreatment." Steve and Charley looked at her and then at Doc.

"What happened?" asked Steve. Before she could answer, Doc did it for her.

"After we left the store one of Murphy's men was beating his horse in the street. Grace jumped in front of his whip and saved the horse." He laughed heartily. "You looked set to brawl with him right there."

"Mr. Tunstall saved the horse." She looked up from the table and noticed that to her right Chavez was giving her a small half smile. He was the only one who hadn't said a word to her or anyone. Next to him Charley was openly staring again.

"How old are you?" asked Charley. Before she could answer Mr Tunstall chastised him.

"Charles…" Mr. Tunstall warned gently. "It is not polite to ask a lady her age."

"It's alright Mr. Tunstall. As it is now I don't mind it. I'm 19 Charley. How old are you all?"

"Dick, Chavez, and Doc are 20. Steve and I are 19." Charley smiled shyly at her. "Do you plan on staying long?" He asked obviously hoping she would.

"I don't want to impose." Grace pushed her food around her plate a bit. Across from her Mr. Tunstall cleared his throat.

"Having given it some thought, we could use someone here to help out a bit with the housework and such. You could certainly stay here if you like." It seemed like all the boys held their breath as they stared at Grace waiting for her to answer. More and more Grace found that she couldn't help her lips curling into a smile here.

"I would very much appreciate that Mr. Tunstall. I'd love to stay." All the boys looked at one another happily.

"Where were you heading?" Dick queried.

"Nowhere in particular. When I left home I didn't have a destination in mind. It was sort of short notice." Mr. Tunstall just nodded, accepting her answer, but Steve looked perplexed.

"What's that mean?" he asked.

"Well my grandmother was planning on marrying me off and when she told me, I got so mad I just left."

"Was the guy really that bad?" Doc questioned. Grace looked at him and said quite frankly,

"He was a pompous ass...if you don't mind my saying so. Entitled, rude, unkind...plus I heard about his _indiscretions _with a few less than reputable ladies, if you know what I mean." Just as a few of the boys made to inquire about these "indiscretions" Mr. Tunstall interrupted.

"Alright then, Charles, Jose, if you don't mind cleaning up this evening I have some letters to write before we read." He excused himself from the table and the lucky two began clearing away the table. Grace picked up her glass, utensils, and plate and followed them. When Charley saw her he tried to take them from her. Knowing that he was only trying to be polite, she swatted his hand away nonetheless. Being on her own had given her a fierce sense of independence and she liked doing things for herself.

"I'd like to help". Placing the dirty crockery into a large wash tub she went back for more with Charley following along behind her fussing. Coming back in she saw Chavez lifting a large pot of hot water from over the fire to pour into the tub. Once the table was cleared the trio stood around the tub scrubbing. In the other room they could hear the others reading aloud. They, Charley and Grace, chatted amiably while Chavez listened quietly. Finishing in good time they joined the others and the boys all took a turn at reading from a pamphlet. For the most part they were fairly efficient, only stumbling over tricky words. After about an hour Mr. Tunstall excused himself and Grace went off to bed as well.

Drawing aside the curtain to her room she watched as the boys made their way to the bunkhouse. Billy snatched Dick's hat and ran off with it letting out a distinctive hyena-like laugh. That boy was a trouble-maker. Shaking her head she changed into her nightshirt and laid down to sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer- Yet another reminder that I do not own Young Guns…so depressing.

When Grace awoke the following morning she was momentarily confused. Waking up in a strange bed has that effect on people. Gazing toward the window she could see that it was still mostly dark but early morning light was just beginning to penetrate through the curtains. Rubbing her eyes she sat up and began unbraiding her hair. Each morning she brushed it, washed it quickly, and then braided it again. In her travels she found that her hair simply could not go a day without washing and that by plaiting the unruly locks they stayed out of her way. Changing back into her day clothes she stepped out into the hall and out of the house and stood on the porch. Sitting down on the steps she watched some wandering chickens peck the ground. It wasn't long before heavy footsteps sounded inside and she was joined by Mr. Tunstall who sat down beside her.

"You really shouldn't be out in the cold with wet hair" he commented. Laughing she touched her braid which had fallen over one shoulder and tried to squeeze some excess water from it.

"I really appreciate what you're doing for me Mr. Tunstall. To be honest I'm tired of wandering around." She turned to him, "I can be useful too, just like the boys. I can ride and shoot, but I can cook, clean, and sew besides." Mr. Tunstall seemed surprised.

"Who taught you to shoot?" he asked.

"My father and brothers; they raised me" she paused and looked away toward the now steadily rising sun. Gently Mr. Tunstall asked,

"Where are they now?"

"Papa died of influenza and my brothers of the pox. My grandma was the only family I had left so I went to live with her."

For a long while they sat in silence just watching as the day grew lighter. Eventually the boys began to emerge from the bunkhouse one by one. They were already dressed and ready for the new day of work ahead of them. Doc went to the henhouse to collect the eggs, Chavez went to tend to the horses, Charley and Steve both went to check on the cattle supervised by Dick of course, and Billy took care of the hog. Grace stood up and stepped off the porch. "Is it okay if I check on the horse?" Mr. Tunstall waved her onward,

"No need to ask."

Hurrying toward the barn she stepped inside and went to the stall occupied by her new horse. As Grace stepped beside the horse it turned its head toward her and nuzzled against her chest. Running a hand along her coat Grace frowned.

"She needs to be brushed." Gasping at the deep voice behind her she spun to see Chavez holding out a brush.

"Thank you." Gingerly she took the brush from him and put it to good use on her horse. As she did so she watched Chavez as he worked around the barn taking hay to all the horse's stalls. He was tall and lean, with a dark complexion, and black hair worn longer than the other boys. Remembering what he had said the day before about being Mexican-Indian it was obvious when you really looked at him. It certainly set him apart from the others. It was some time before she realized that she was staring. Shaking her head slightly, she drew her attention back to the horse. Suddenly he spoke,

"So you'll be staying here then?"

"I think so yes, at least for a little while." Chavez smiled,

"I've got to make the rounds on the property. Want to come and take a look around?" he asked, offering her the reins of one of the horses. Reaching out and taking them from his gloved hand she looked up at his dark brown eyes.

"I'd like that very much, thank you."

~Later that same week...

A gunshot caused Grace to drop what she was doing and rush to look out the front door. Dick was up on the hill astride his horse yelling something about checking out the cattle in the lower 40. Letting out a slow breath she placed a hand over her chest and stepped back in the house. _Was that really necessary? _she wandered as she walked back into the kitchen stepping over a couple fallen pans as she did. Hands on hips, an exasperated Grace stared up at the large assortment of pots and pans on top of the hoosier cabinet. Somehow, from a family of giants, she had drawn the short straw when it came to height. Taking a breath she stood up on tiptoe trying once more to reach the one she needed. Her fingertips just barely brushed the bottom of the pot. Crouching down slightly she jumped up and made to grab at it. Completely hitting off her mark, another pan came crashing to the floor. _Not the one I wanted. _Finally she hitched up her skirts and put her knee on the tabletop portion of the cabinet. Just as she was about to hoist herself up a dark hand reached over her and easily lifted up the pot. Looking over her shoulder she saw Chavez. Eyebrows raised he was looking at her precarious position perched on the tabletop. She hopped down quickly and rustled her skirts back into place. Chavez smiled down at her while holding out the pot. Taking it gratefully she turned to place it on the table,

"Thanks. I thought you all went to check out the lower 40?"

"I heard the noise and came to check it out. Is this how you've been getting things down?" He raised an eyebrow as he looked around at all the pans that had hit the floor in Grace's endeavor to reach the one she wanted. Following his gaze she laughed and began picking them up.

"Yes, well I don't think this kitchen is used to someone my size." Chavez took the pans from her hands and placed them back where they belonged while Grace watched him enviously. Chavez was easily a full foot taller which left her about eye level with his chest. She went on, "I always wanted to be taller like my brothers."

"Your size suits you." Again his eyes watched hers, but something in his gaze caused Grace to lowered her eyes. "Where did you get eyes like those?" No one else had commented on them yet but it was usually inevitable. Grace had one dark brown eye but the other was a deep shade of green.

"My papa had green eyes and my mother had brown eyes. I guess I got one from each." That had always been what her Papa had told her.

"I've never seen it before." Grace wasn't surprised.

"One of my brothers had it too."

"Had?"

"I lost my brothers both to the pox a year ago." She said this quietly. No expanse of time healed the wounds of losing your family. Chavez's eyes became soft and understanding.

"I'm sorry," he offered quietly. Grace nodded as she looked up into his face and was surprised at the gentleness she saw there. When she lowered her gaze again she caught sight of a rip in Chavez's shirt. Without thinking she reached out and touched the material. It was a straight cut about five inches long, the fabric had yet to fray. She looked back up,

"When you change for supper, bring me this shirt and I'll mend it." Without waiting for a reply she went back to the counter, picked up a knife and commenced chopping the vegetables for the stew.

Later that day after everyone had finished their supper they adjourned to the parlor to read which Grace had come to understand was an everyday practice. Before they all settled in, Grace ran quickly to her room to retrieve her sewing kit but on the way there she passed through the kitchen. In her hurry she nearly tripped over a small step ladder that had been placed around the corner. Stopping for a moment she set it back in place and smiled to herself before continuing on to her room. When she returned she took a seat beside Charley on his bench so as to benefit from the light of the fire. Mr. Tunstall handed Doc a pamphlet and asked him to begin. As Doc read aloud, Grace mended Chavez's shirt. Even in the flickering light of the fire her needle deftly moved through the fabric. Once finished she knotted the thread, bit through it and held up the shirt. Turning it right-side in she placed it over her knee and ran her fingers over where the tear had been. Satisfied with her work she folded it neatly and left it to lay in her lap. At her side Charley was playing with a lariat and before her Chavez was working on one of the many knives Grace had noticed that he carried on his person. The pamphlet had now been passed to Steve who was reading with more difficulty than had Doc. He took his time sounding out the words.

"There are plenty of men who will never…secede-"

"Succeed" Mr. Tunstall corrected. Steve looked startled and reread the sentence correctly.

"suc- who will never succeed anywhere." Steve finished off the sentence and looked relieved that his turn was over.

"You've got a whole room full of em right here" commented Dick from his place at the table. Everyone chuckled at that, even Mr. Tunstall. Grace liked that about them. They made light of their less than perfect pasts. Living here was like being given a clean slate.

"Well done. William." Billy's head snapped up and he immediately scoffed,

"Yeah, sure."

"Well excuse me Billy. Very sorry to offend you, but we congregated here to learn to read and write. You need more than skill with a firearm to succeed in the new world Billy. So take up the journal, and start where the other boy left off, or you can go straight back to your home on the streets." Grace's eyes were wide as she glanced from Mr. Tunstall to Billy. Again Steve extended the pamphlet to Billy who snatched it up and began to read…very well. As he easily read Grace watched the other boy's reactions. They were clearly surprised, as was she actually. It wasn't that Billy seemed ignorant; he just didn't come across as an educated kid. Mr. Tunstall just gave a little half smile.

"Splendid" he said as he lifted himself from his rocking chair, "A splendid reading, thank you. Goodnight." As he left the room everyone chorused their goodnights. Once they heard the door to his bedroom close Dick asked,

"Where'd you learn to read Billy?"

"I went to school in Silver City." Billy hopped up from his seat on a low chest and headed for the door where the others began to follow him. It was late and they always had an early morning ahead of them. Chavez was the last to rise from his spot by the fireplace. When he did Grace rose from the bench and handed him his shirt.

"Good as new" she said with a smile. Chavez unfolded the shirt and inspected her work while she stood with her hands clasped behind her back awaiting his opinion.

"I can't even tell where it was ripped" he admitted. "Thanks." With a smile he turned and headed for the door. Grace followed him,

"Did you put a step ladder in the kitchen?" He turned and leaned against the door frame.

"Yeah it's been in the barn for a while and no one ever uses it."

"I really appreciate it Chavez, have a good night."

"You too Grace". With that he left the house and walked off to the bunkhouse.


	4. Chapter 4

Sorry for the long delay. I completely lost all motivation to do pretty much anything but it's all come back so here it is:

It wasn't long before Grace had been introduced to Jane Greathouse, a saucy redhead with a whorehouse not too far outside of Lincoln. Grace instantly liked Jane for her honest, if somewhat abrupt nature. The two became fast friends. Grace took numerous trips into Lincoln in order to keep up the food store necessary to sustain all the boys as well as herself and Mr. Tunstall and to collect random odds and ends for the ranch. Upon one of these trips the day had begun quite lovely, but by midafternoon, storm clouds were rolling in threateningly. Grace happened to pass Jane on her way out of town. As usual Jane was dressed to the nines in a fine gown and carrying a lacey parasol.

"This rain is gonna come down any minute you know. Why not come on over to my place for a bit and wait it out?" Tilting her head to the side Grace thought about it for a moment; she'd never been to a whorehouse. She grinned with pleasure, imagining what her Grandmother's reaction might be. She was already living alone with seven men, so one trip to a whorehouse couldn't damage her reputation anymore than it already was.

"Alright Jane, lead the way." As they rode, Jane sitting prettily side-saddle, small droplets of rain began to come down. They sped on and in no time arrived at what looked like an innocent little farmhouse.

"Home, sweet home" Jane said as they dismounted and handed the reins to a little dark child who led the horses off towards a small covered area. The two rushed inside. The place was nitty gritty, just a chaise lounge thrown here and there for some class, but otherwise it was pretty bare. As Jane took Grace's jacket she asked, "You wanna relax upstairs?" Grace gave her a wary look,

"How do you mean?" she inquired, narrowing her eyes. Jane just laughed and took Grace's arm, leading her up the stairs.

An hour later the girls were soaking in their respective tubs on the second floor. They were fine copper tubs filled with steaming hot water with perfume added. Their hair was pinned up high to keep it from getting wet, but stray tendrils of hair curled from the steam. With her head leaning back Grace was smiling with her eyes closed enjoying how the hot water soothed her aching muscles. When she opened her eyes she saw that Jane was staring at her funny. Confused Grace looked around and then back at Jane,

"What?"

Jane leaned her elbows on the side of her tub and supported her face in her hands.

"You know, you're real pretty. I've sure never seen eyes like yours anywhere before. I've been wondering something." Narrowing her eyes Grace held up her hands,

"I've already got a job, no offense." Jane laughed and rolled her eyes.

"Not what I meant," she said. "It's just, well you've been living with all those handsome boys for a while now and you're telling me that not one of them has popped your cherry." Grace nearly choked on the sip of whiskey she had just swallowed. Coughing she looked at Jane incredulously.

"No! Was one supposed to? And why do you assume I'm a virgin?" Jane raised an eyebrow. "Okay fine, I am." Jane held up her hands,

"Hey, I'm just saying." It was clear that Jane had more to say, so Grace gestured her to go on. "So which one would you want to?" Staring down at the bubbles of her bath Grace's face was beginning to turn red. While she usually appreciated this quality in Jane, she had never really had a female friend to talk about these things with so the subject was usually kept personal. When she didn't reply Jane went on, "I like Billy. He's funny and wild, don't you think?"

"Yeah he's something else." Grace said taking another drink. Darting a glance over at Jane she saw that she was chewing on her lower lip, brow furrowed, deep in thought. "You'll get wrinkles if you keep that up" Grace warned.

"I'm trying to work out which of them is your type. I've ruled out Steve and Billy so far. That leaves Charley, Chavez, and Dick" she broke off sniggering as she always did when saying Dick. Grace was trying to seem disinterested in Jane's conversation and had closed her eyes again. Ignoring this Jane went on, "I don't think it'd be Charley, I see you with someone…taller." Clearly she was trying to be charitable. "So it's either Chavez or Dick. They both have that tall, dark, and handsome thing going for them, and I think either could handle you." Grace snorted in a most unladylike fashion.

Thankfully a soft knock came from the door interrupting Jane before she could go on. Peeking from around the door the same dark child from before cleared their throat.

"There's a man downstairs asking for the lady," they said quickly before retreating again. Jane sighed,

"Poor kid's shy as can be." Then her demeanor changed, "lets go and see who's come for you. Bet it's one of your boys!" Jane then stood up in the tub and Grace quickly looked away; Jane was many things and shy was not one of them! Grace quickly jumped out of her tub and stepped behind a screen to dress.

Standing out on the porch was Chavez; his back was turned on them but his tall frame, and long jetty hair gave him away. Grace smiled when she saw him, unaware of Jane's eyes watching her closely. Safely inside the house, out of earshot she commented,

"He sure is a fine figure of a man isn't he?" Grace just ignored her and shrugged on her coat. Giving Jane a hug goodbye she stepped out onto the porch. Chavez turned when he heard the door open and smiled,

"We wondered where you went," he said, "we were worried about you." He then helped her onto her horse, and they rode back home together. All the while those little comments Jane had made were festering in Grace's brain.


	5. Chapter 5

I do not own Young Guns...oh painful reminder.

4 months until the LCW...

"Alright then that's enough reading for tonight, a splendid job everyone. Please mark your place Grace and we'll continue tomorrow." John Tunstall rose from the armchair, smiling as he retired to his room for the night. Grace and the other Regulators chorused their "Goodnights" as she placed a strip of fabric between the pages and returned the book to its shelf. After a few moments of silence in which they exchanged grinning glances they all made their way to the bunkhouse. They were certain that John knew of their Saturday night activities, but allowed it to go seemingly unnoticed, and more importantly, unpunished. Perhaps only because the next day, Sunday, was their day of rest and their antics did not inhibit their work.

The small group sat around a small table at the center of the bunkhouse and then there were produced six shot glasses and a few assorted bottles of whiskey, rum, and something unidentifiable that Steve had bought off another local rancher. Grace planned on avoiding that last one. Richard, Doc, Charley, Steve, Billy, Chavez and Grace sat around the table.

"So what game are we playing tonight?" asked Grace, propping her elbows on the table which was frowned upon in the house. She loved being the only woman among men. It was different from keeping company with women, you could be open and honest, and downright crude almost without consequence, and by now they treated her as one of their own. Doc looked amused as he poured everyone a shot of whiskey,

"Poker." he said, handing her a glass. The downside of being one of the guys? They enjoyed boring games. She sat back pouting and crossed her arms over her chest as Doc dealt out the cards.

An hour later they were still playing, laughing, and drinking, save for Charley who had drunk too much already and was snoring on his bunk. Grace was annoyed as she looked through her hand. "Well?" Doc prompted. Sighing she laid down her cards,

"I'm out." Pushing away from the table Grace walked over to an empty bunk and lay down. They laughed, and continued their game. While she had taken drinks slowly, the boys had downed their glasses, but she was beginning to feel the effects of the liquor. Her cheeks were warm, and she felt dizzy. For a few minutes she listened to the taunts and insults tossed back and forth at the table. Another roar of laughter and Chavez joined her.

"Looks like I'm out too," he commented as he sat on the bed where Grace lay. Her eyes were closed, but he knew she was wide awake yet. He leaned back and unlaced one of her shoes, exposed from beneath the hem of her skirt. Pulling off her shoe he tickled her foot, which got an immediate response as the other foot kicked him in the back. Chavez wasn't completely drunk but was definitely well on his way.

"That's what you get" She said as she sat up and kicked off the other shoe. Tilting her head to one side she swung her long braid over one shoulder to tug off the cord keeping it together. Starting at the bottom she untangled the braid. As she did so she caught Chavez's eyes and began pushing against his leg with her stockinged feet. "Go grab that bottle of rum and our glasses" she commanded. After he didn't budge from repeated nudging she added with a pout, "please Chavez?" He rewarded her with a soft smile and did as she asked. As he walked away she gazed at his broad shoulders and narrow hips. Grace traced a upside-down triangle in the air and thought to herself, _that's how men ought to be shaped. _She spaced out for a moment or two.

"Why are you smiling?" Chavez had returned and reclaimed his place on the bed. Drawing a hand up to her mouth she covered her lips,

"I didn't realize I was, but never you mind". Finishing with her hair she shook her head and allowed the curls to fall wherever they wanted. The soft chestnut locks tumbled down her back. Chavez handed over her glass and poured her and himself a shot. "That's better," she sighed after drinking hers.

"Hey Chavez! Get over here!" called Billy from the table. Laughing she pushed on his shoulder,

"You'd better go before you get in trouble," she teased. As Chavez went to see what they wanted Grace eyed the bottle of rum and took a couple gulps straight from the bottle. After a few minutes of idly hanging out on the bed she began to feel antsy so she slowly got up and stumbled ever so slightly out of the bunkhouse.

Once exposed to the cool night air she breathed deep and closed her eyes. It seemed that everything around her had a wiggly quality to it, which didn't hurt her head but it did make it difficult to walk a straight line. Unless something was right in front of her, Grace just couldn't focus on it. Slowly she sat down on the ground and closed her eyes. Upon opening her eyes she found that Chavez had also found his way outside. Though he was steady on his feet, he too had drunk a little too much.

"What are you doing on the ground?" he asked. Smiling, slightly embarrassed she explained to him,

"The ground's the only thing that doesn't move. You should come down here it's fun." Chavez just gave her one of his half smiles. As he sat down Indian-style (no pun intended) Grace laid back and watched the stars. Moving to lay next to her Chavez turned his head to watch Grace. Even drunk Grace could feel his eyes on her and so she turned to face him. It seemed that he wanted to say something but couldn't find the words in his inebriated state. Instead he turned onto his side so that he was leaning over her. Grace laid there unsure of what he was going to do and what to do herself. Chavez ran his knuckles along the delicate curve of Grace's face. Her heart fluttered as he gently gripped her chin and began to lean closer...

But then a commotion inside the bunkhouse seemed to snap them both out of it. Chavez quickly pulled away and sat up. Trying to hide her disappointment Grace mumbled something about being tired and got up and made her way to the main house.


	6. Chapter 6

2 months until the LCW...

The boys were inside the saloon drunkenly singing some bawdy songs to a horribly banged out piano tune. While she didn't drink much, Grace did enjoy watching the others and the spectacle they made of themselves. Doc had only just jumped up from their table to join the others. Their voices slurred the words rendering the tune unintelligible but they didn't seem to mind. It's possible they couldn't even tell. Her eyes wandered from the show in search of Chavez but didn't see him. A giggle distracted her and upon finding its source in a buxom blonde, she also found Chavez seated at the far end of the bar. From her seat across the room she couldn't see his face, but the blonde was clearly visible. Obviously house entertainment, she was wearing a corset so tightly laced it was a wonder that she was capable of laughter. Tossing her unnatural curls she laid a hand on his shoulder and as she spoke leaned forward suggestively showing off her attributes that were practically spilling forth from the top of the corset. She watched as the blonde continued to rub Chavez's shoulder and toy with the ends of his hair. Grace swallowed hard and suddenly felt ill. The heat of the room and the noise suddenly seemed overwhelming. Downing her glass, she got up from her table and hurried out the door. She didn't see Chavez brush her hand away or the woman walk off in a huff in search of a willing customer.

Outside she recognized one of Murphy's men, a guy known as McCoy, standing on the other side of the street but ignored him. Grace paced back and forth in front of the saloon a couple times taking deep breaths, but found that it did no good. It took her a moment to figure out that she was experiencing jealousy. She wanted to walk back in and punch that hussy. As she tried to calm herself down she absently walked down the covered walkway along the town shops. _What am I so upset about_? Biting her lip she suspected that she wouldn't have cared if any of the other boys had been propositioned. She stopped in front of the What-Not Shop and angrily gripped the hitching post imagining that it was the girl's neck.

"What's got you all riled up? Grace had been so distracted by her thoughts that she hadn't noticed that McCoy had crossed to her side of the street. She had also failed to notice how far she had walked from the saloon. The man spoke again, his teeth were stained and rotting, "I asked you a question girlie aren't you gonna answer?" he asked in a drunken Irish brogue. Grace cast a quick glance toward the saloon but it was far down the lane now, even if she yelled the odds of her being heard over the music inside were not good. She was alone. Taking the Tunstall route she politely asked to be let by,

"Good evening sir, I was just getting some air, but I think I'd better be getting back now, so if you'll excuse me…" She made to walk past him but he stepped in her path and did so again when she tried to side step him. Annoyed, she reached to draw her pistol, but he caught hold of her wrist. The other hand quickly covered her mouth cutting off any attempt at a cry for help. Bringing up her other fist she dealt a swift punch to his stomach and made to kick his shin, but McCoy furiously shoved her against the shop door using the weight of his body to trap her there. With his free hand he pried the pistol from her fingers and tossed in onto the street. All the while she viciously tried to head-butt or snap at him with her teeth. Yanking his head away he spun her round, covered her mouth and began dragging her down between the buildings. All the while she struggled violently. She buckled her knees hoping that her weight would slow him down and desperately tried to shake herself loose from his hold.

Once in the alley he momentarily released her only to deliver the back of his hand across her face. The stinging pain was followed by the taste of blood as it filled her mouth and she gasped at the pain. The man fully expected the blow to render her incapable of standing, but Grace remained on her feet and wildly punched him with as much force as she could muster. McCoy fell to his knees holding his jaw. She looked down on him and spit out the blood that had pooled in her mouth and made to walk past him. He caught hold of one of her feet and pulled it out from under her. Grace hit the ground with full force, knocking the wind out of her; it was a wonder that she was able to cry out in pain. While she struggled to breathe the heavy weight of his body pressed down on top of her. Again that calloused hand clamped down over her mouth and in horror she felt him grab at her collar and pull. The buttons tore out of her shirt and his free hand groped at her body. Then he began reaching for the hem of her skirts. Squeezing her eyes shut she struggled against her attacker with all her might but his weight held her down like a rock.

Then suddenly the weight was gone. Upon opening her eyes she saw Chavez had appeared from nowhere, had roughly yanked the man off her and thrown him into the side of a building. Grabbing hold of the McCoy's lapels Chavez punched him hard repeatedly square in the face; she was certain that she heard a crunch as the McCoy's nose surely broke. Momentarily stunned the man fell back and Chavez drew one of his knives. From her place on the ground Grace looked up at Chavez's face and hurriedly jumped to her feet. The look in his dark eyes frightened her; he was going to kill McCoy. Knife in hand he was advancing toward the fallen man whose nose was yet gushing blood. Her mind raced. If Chavez killed this man he would be hanged no matter the reason. Thinking quickly she put herself between them, but Chavez easily pushed her away. Desperate to stop him, Grace threw herself at him and hung on.

"Chavez don't, please. They'll put you in jail! Hang you! For me, please stop!" she begged. Her arms squeezed around him, her feet stepped on top of his, anything to keep him from moving forward, from committing murder. After a few moments in which Grace pressed her face against his chest, she felt his breathing slow. He placed a hand at the small of her back and sheathed his knife. She let out the breath she had been holding but didn't release her hold on him just yet.

"Run pendejo, before I change my mind." His voice was dangerously calm but she could hear the hard edge in his voice. McCoy struggled to his feet and staggered off as fast as he could. As soon as he was out of sight Chavez looked down at Grace who still clung to him. Her body was shaking but she wasn't crying. Taking hold of her shoulders he gently pushed her away from him. As he did so she looked up into his face,

"Thank you" she said, her voice wavering. Seeing her split lip he angrily grit his teeth and shot a glance in the direction McCoy had run off. Eyes widening she reached out and grasped his arm. Without looking at her he said,

"I'm not going after him tonight Grace. Are you alright?" Shifting on her feet she reached up to touch her lip and winced,

"Yes, where are the others?" She asked as she realized her shirt was torn open revealing her corset cover. Embarrassed, she drew the shirt closed and attempted to tuck the edges into her skirt. Chavez shrugged out of his jacket and held it for her. Thankfully she slid into it.

"At Jane's place for the night" Nothing more about them really had to be said, it was understood that the boys were indisposed until the following day. "Let's head home." As they walked back to their horses Chavez kept a protective hand on her upper arm while the other hand lay on the hilt of his knife. They mounted their horses and took off for home. It was a comfortably cool night and the pitch black sky was lit up with countless stars and the moon was nearly full. For a long while they rode in silence until Chavez asked, "What did you jump on me for?" His voice was characteristically low and quiet. Grace turned to him with wide eyes,

"Are you kidding? I thought you were going to murder him. I saw that look on your face."

"And I saw yours, which is why I was going to kill him." He reached forward to run his gloved fingers through his horse's mane, remembering how he had found her. All he had seen was her petite body struggling beneath a man who had a fistful of her skirts. He shook his head trying to get the image out of his head. The rage he had felt completely consumed him in that moment. Turning to look at her he watched as she let go of the reigns and ran her hands through her hair. Until that moment he didn't think he'd ever seen it completely loose. Even in the moonlight he could see that it fell in soft curls down her back. Feeling his eyes on her, Grace cleared her throat,

"I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't shown up Chavez." In the quiet of the night she now had time to really think about what had very nearly happened. That despicable man had almost raped her, and possibly even had it in his mind to kill her. Certainly Chavez had saved her life.

"You would have figured something out" he said trying to reassure her. As they rode she kept looking over at him, but he pretended not to notice. She drew his jacket close about her.

When they arrived home it was well past two in the morning. Tunstall was asleep in the house and wasn't expecting them back until much later in the day. They both dismounted in silence. Chavez moved toward her and gently took the reins from her hands, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder, "I'll put her away, you head on inside." Watching him closely she seemed about to say something before nodding and quietly slipping inside the house. Chavez watched as she went in before heading to the barn. Once safely inside her room she collapsed onto her bed rubbing her eyes wearily. That had been close. She knew that her father had always tried to protect her from the more ugly aspects of life. She didn't realize how vulnerable she was or how easily she could be victimized and it both frightened and angered her. Eager to get out of her clothes she quickly changed into her nightgown and washed her face, carefully dabbing at the blood on her lower lip. Above her wash basin she looked at her reflection in the mirror and saw the empty room behind her. Looking into her own eyes she thought, _I don't want to be alone right now. _It was like she could still feel McCoy's body on her, his breath on her face, and it sickened tried to ignore the feeling but it was no use. Shaking her head she walked to the window. Outside she heard the horses in the barn and decided to go out to see if Chavez was still awake; being alone right now was too much. She hoped that being with someone would distract her mind. Slipping into a light pair of shoes and shrugging back into his jacket she climbed out of the window and headed over to the barn.

Crossing through the open barn doors she first heard and then saw Chavez. His smooth voice could be heard speaking softly in Spanish as he brushed with horse's coat with great care. Never understanding a word he said in Spanish, she liked the sound of it nonetheless. It was comforting. He cast a quick glance over his shoulder at her; saw the nightgown under the open coat. "Can't sleep?" Grace walked over to stand in front of his horse, sliding her hand down the smooth neck.

"I didn't bother trying." Chavez watched her silently as she stroked the horse's nose. Locks of hair had fallen into her face, and her eyes were avoiding his, but the telltale sniffle gave her away. Grace was a strong woman. Seeing her like this gave him a strange ach in his chest. Taking a breath he dropped the brush, took her hands, and pulled her into a tight embrace.

"It's alright" he whispered against her hair, "It'll never happen again Gracie." At first Grace was completely taken off guard and tensed up, but in no time she melted against him. Encircling her arms around him she hugged him back. Laying her forehead against him, she felt the tears that threatened to fall. She had thought that coming out here would help take her mind off it, but such a tender gesture completely broke her down. Grace very rarely cried and no one had ever seen her do so, but Chavez understood that she needed this release. Murmuring something in Spanish against her hair he pressed his lips against her temple. For a long while they stood together, Chavez comfortingly stroking her back as she cried quietly. Taking a shuddering breath Grace looked up at his face, the moistness in her eyes enhancing their unique coloration.

"I'm sorry" she said softly trying to brush the tears from her cheeks. "I always thought I could take care of myself." Despite her crying, her voice was steady and controlled. As she held his gaze a tear rolled down the delicate curve of her cheek. Chavez brought his hand up to her face and brushed it away.

"I don't mind taking care of you" he said. Hugging her once more he continued, "Come on let's go to the bunkhouse." Taking her hand he led her out of the barn and over to the small bunkhouse where all the boys slept. The bunkhouse was a simple structure; just an open hall with a row of beds lining one wall. Chavez let go of her hand and she walked to his bed to sit down while he grabbed a bottle of whiskey hidden under an unused beds mattress. After a moment of awkwardly tapping her toes on the wood floor she drew her feet up on the bed and lay down. When Chavez turned around a fleeting expression that was gone before Grace could identify it passed over his face. Uncorking the bottle he took a swig and offered it to her. Grace accepted it and took a long sip before handing it back. The liquid stung her split lip but its warmth felt good as it went down. The crying had stopped leaving her in a state of exhaustion. Sitting beside her on the bed Chavez tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear, leaving his hand to rest on her shoulder. Lying on her side Grace gazed up at him.

"Chavez, would you mind if I stayed here tonight?"

"No, you can take my bed." He turned to go to another bed but Grace caught his hand, holding it tight.

"Stay?" When he gave her a quizzical look she moved over on the bed and clarified, "Don't leave me." Knowing that if she went back to her room she would be miserable and alone, she wanted to stay here, but she wanted him close so that she could feel safe. Nodding he pulled off his boots and lay down beside her. It was a fairly small bed and for fear of falling off, or maybe for want of closeness, she laid partially on his chest, using him as a pillow. Weariness quickly overtook her and she fell asleep but Chavez remained awake for some time after, absently stroking her hair. Eventually he too succumbed to sleep.


	7. Chapter 7

I do not own Young Guns or it's characters. Revisions of previous chapters may occur.

A couple weeks later...

By the time Grace had finished the errands Mr. Tunstall had given her it was late in the day. Despite the hour, the sun still beat down overhead. Squinting into the sun she frowned. The weather didn't agree with her. Chavez on the other hand never seemed much effected by the elements. No matter the weather he seemed perfectly content with it and certainly never complained. She cast a quick glance over at him as they rode. Grace had actually been worried about his accompanying her into town. It had been a couple weeks since they had been in Lincoln together since McCoy had attacked her. When he heard that Grace had been planning on going alone, he was quick to volunteer to come along and had kept not more than three steps behind her for the duration. She was certain that he would tread on her heels if he tried to get any closer. Each time Grace had looked his way his jaw was tight and his hand was resting tensely on the hilt of the knife at his hip. While she was glad to have him with her, Grace couldn't help but feel slightly annoyed with him and with herself.

Directing her horse closer to his, so that their knees briefly brushed against one another, she caught his eye.

"Thank you for coming with me. You didn't have too."

"The way trouble follows you, someone has to watch out for you." _And why do you take the responsibility? _Grace thought to herself. She shifted uncomfortably in the saddle and again looked up at the blazing sun.

"I think all you'll have to worry about right now is me melting in this heat." Chavez followed her gaze and thought for a moment. Suddenly he turned his horse off their usual path. Confused, Grace quickly directed her horse to follow him. "Chavez, home is that way. Where are you going?" She spurred her horse on to catch up with him. Saying nothing he glanced over his shoulder at her with a small smile on his face. The horses walked on for about ten minutes, their hooves clicking on the dusty ground. Within a few moments the river came into view.

Chavez leapt from his horse and began tugging off his boots. Laughing, Grace followed suit, hiding herself behind her horse as Chavez whipped off his coat, and shirt. He was lucky to have it so easy. She had countless buttons to tackle before she could be relieved of her shirt, skirt, and underskirt, and then all she had on was her pettipants and camisole. When she stood on tiptoe to look over her horse's back, Chavez was already about knee deep in the water, stripped down to his knickers, and respectfully turned away. She quickly stepped into the water, and waded into where Chavez had moved and stood about waist deep. The water soothed her overly warm skin. She stood beside Chavez and glanced his way. His eyes were closed, a serene countenance on his face. The sunlight enhanced the copper tones of the smooth skin on his face, arms, and chest. Grace was suddenly aware of how hard her heart seemed to be beating. Folding her arms over her chest, she walked around silently appraising him. The skin on his back was smooth save for a number of scars. Curiously Grace reached out and lightly traced them with a slender finger, feeling the raised tissue. A smile tugged at her lips as she took note of the contrast between her own pale, white hand against his bronze coloration. The touch must have broken him from his reverie because he turned and looked down at her. It was a look she had seen on a number of occasions; mere glances that vanished as quickly as they were noticed, but not now. His dark eyes seemed to light her soul aflame as he gazed at her with such intensity. It was undeniable now. Hoping he hadn't noticed the heat rising to her cheeks, she quickly turned her back to him and the sun.

The sound of the rushing water masked his quiet movements as he moved toward her. The sun cast a beautiful glow on her soft skin. So lovely was it, that Chavez simply could not resist. The look he had seen in her eyes gave him courage. He laid his large hands on her shoulders and ran them down her slender arms where he hesitantly covered her hands with his where they rested at her sides beneath the water. For a moment her body stiffened before melting against him. Their fingers entwined. After a short time like this his lips pressed lightly against her temple, her ear, and repeatedly down her neck. Tilting her head to one side, Grace's eyes fluttered closed.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd think you wanted to kiss me" Grace's voice was soft, barely audible. Chavez's lips continued their steady progress as he planted kiss after kiss on her neck, her jaw and her cheek. Never one for patience, Grace could no longer stand the painstakingly slow advance, and so turning her head ever so slightly, their lips finally met. At first Chavez seemed quite shocked but quickly recovered. He released her hands long enough for Grace to turn to face him, only breaking the kiss for a moment. They stood gazing at one another with a combination of surprise and mutual want. Grace nervously bit her lip causing Chavez to smile. Sliding his hand to the back of her neck, and placing the other at her slight waist, he pulled her against him for another kiss.

They were so close she could smell his scent and feel his hair brushing against her face as he leaned forward. His lips were surprisingly soft as they moved against her own. Grace opened her mouth to him and their kiss deepened, becoming more and more passionate. She ran her small hands up his chest, feeling the firm muscles there, before tangling her fingers in his hair. When they finally broke the kiss Chavez leaned down, resting his forehead against hers.

They remained unmoving for some time, feeling the current of the river pushing against their bodies. Chavez's hand came up and cupped Grace's cheek, his thumb gently stroking the soft skin of her bottom lip before kissing her once more.


End file.
